“Will you? Just listen to me… for five minutes… and then you can ask me to choose if you want.”
Matt purses his lips in distaste at my request, but he knows it’s not unreasonable, so he nods his head. Before he can change his mind, I lead him into the living room and push him down on the couch. Because I want to touch him, and because I want him to understand how much I love the intimacy we share, I crawl onto his lap and straddle him.
His hands immediately come up to my waist, skimming under the edge of the t-shirt. I rest my hands on his shoulders and take a deep breath. “Okay… here’s the thing about Cal—”
My words are cut off by a moan as Matt’s hand slides over the top of my thigh, and he sinks a finger into me. Closing my eyes, I submit to the feeling, but then I realize he is just distracting me from my mission.
Pushing back against him, I hop off his lap and glare at him. “You promised you’d listen to me.”
He smirks at me and shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry. You can’t sit your bare ass on my lap and not expect that to happen.”
I glare at him harder, which causes his smirk to deepen. He’s leaning back on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him so they rest just under the edge of the coffee table. Sighing, I step over his legs and sit my rump down on the edge of the table. Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands. This is my “I’m getting ready to have a serious talk” pose.
Matt’s gaze holds mine. Good, he knows I’m serious.
I start to open my mouth when I see Matt’s eyes travel downward.
Down… down… down.
Until they are focused right between my legs.
“Sorry, babe… you can’t expect me to pay attention when you’re flashing that at me. You’ve got five seconds to get some underwear on, or I’m going to throw you on the floor and fuck the shit out of you.”
My skin breaks out in tingles, and for a split second, I almost let him do it. But then I realize that I need to have this talk, and besides… I’m betting I can convince him to fuck the shit out of me when the conversation is over.
I run into the bedroom and slip my panties on, then I run back out before Matt gets up and changes his mind. But he’s still there, waiting patiently, and I decide to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him. I even tuck my legs up demurely under me, and I ensure all my goods are covered.
With a sigh, he turns and angles his body toward me, throwing one arm casually over the back of the couch.
“Okay… spill it,” he says with resignation.
I take a deep breath. “Okay… I have the floor. Just listen. Cal feels horrible about what happened.”
“Good,” Matt sneers. “He should.”
“Hey! You said you’d listen, so shut it. Like I said… his guilt is crushing him. He’s hurting right now.”
Matt rolls his eyes. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?”
I don’t answer his question, because the answer is obvious. Instead, I say, “He must have been a really great friend.”
“Why do you say that?” Matt asks suspiciously.
“Because… I know you wouldn’t be hurting this bad if he had not been so dear to you.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Matt doesn’t even hedge. “Save it, Freud. You think I don’t know this already?”
“Matt, do you even know what happened between Cal and your ex-wife?” I don’t think he does, because if he did… if what Cal told me happened was the truth, then I’m not so sure Matt would be this unyielding.
“I know all I need to. She was married to me… he fucked her. What more is there?”
“You’re not interested in the details?”
“Why would I be?” he asks, incredulous. “I don’t get where you’re going with all of this.”